Happy
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Paul wasn't the easiest person to get along with in the middle of '01. And yet, somehow, Stephanie somehow manages to make him realize just how happy he really is. - One-shot.


It was with a groan that Paul hauled himself up onto his crutches, grumbling out an, "I'm comin'," at the sound of the knock on the door.

"You know," he heard from the other side, "if you just kept it unlocked, you wouldn't have to get up."

"And just why," he complained as he made his way over to the door, "would I just leave a place like this open to the public?"

"I have a feeling that if they see a big, hulking guy stretched out on the couch, they'd head right back out."

"Damn right." When he got the door open, he didn't spare a smile for the woman on the other side, but did manage to say, "I could just make you a key though."

That was enough to shock Stephanie, if only for a moment, as she stared. Then, ducking her head a bit, she mumbled something he didn't quite catch as Paul only hobbled to the side a bit, allowing her entrance.

"I'd help you with the groceries, but-"

"No, I know." She came in then, a few plastic bags in her arms. "It's fine. Really. Go sit back down; let me put these in-"

"What is exact in those anyhow?" He wasn't doing as she was suggesting. Rather, as she headed to the tiny kitchen in his rather modest home, he followed right along. "Steph?"

"I'm making you dinner, of course."

With her back to him, he didn't hide the rather distasteful face he made. "Of course."

"Unless you wanted-"

"No, I'd rather stay in tonight, if that's alright with you." He'd gone to take a seat at the kitchen table as she only went to set the bags on the counter by the stove, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I'm sure that's what you wanna do too, huh? Relax a bit?"

"I guess so."

He pulled another chair out at the table, resting his bum leg in it, watching as she went to putting things away. "How'd you know I didn't have a fridge stocked full of food, huh?"

"I had a feeling you would, actually," she said, not looking in his direction. "I just also figured that you'd probably not want me to leave the house again once I got here, so it was better to be safe than sorry."

"Good choice."

"Thought so." Noting then the silence in the house, she asked, "What were you doing before I got here?"

"Obviously waiting for you."

"Sure."

"I was watching TV."

"You could go back to that." Steph had to pass by him, to go toss the then empty bags in the trashcan. Paul only reached out with one of his crutches, blocking her path. When she gave him a look, he nodded her over.

"What kinda woman," he griped softly as she came closer, "comes into a man's house and don't even properly greet him?"

"I did sort of have my hands full, you know."

"I know."

When she leaned over to give him a kiss, Paul had no problem with reaching out with a hand and holding her in place, as if to keep it lasting a bit longer.

"Your shorts," he mumbled when she finally did pull away, "look awfully tight, Steph. You should probably slip outta 'em. You know, prevent circulation loss."

"Ha ha." His head got a gentle flick before she walked away once more. "I have to make dinner, Paul."

"Right now?" He glared at her back as she turned around. "Come on; it's been forever since we've been together."

"It'll be forever and thirty minutes then. I'm starved. And I'm sure you are too."

Yeah. And he would be after her lousy meal too.

She asked him a lot about how his rehab for his leg had been going, but he felt like that was all they had been talking about, the past few weeks. She'd been rather busy of late and that left little time for the two of them and, while they had had phone conversations, those were typically dictated by Steph's mood.

Which, for the record, hadn't been great lately.

Or at least with others, it seemed. She talked and complained nonstop on the phone. He'd mostly just lay there, stretched out on his couch, grunting and agreeing at all the right times while flipping through the television and hardly listening. All the worst parts of a relationship rolled into one.

Still though, he did it. Mainly just for the moments they were having right then. When Stephanie would be able to get away and drop by his place. Check up on him. Make him food (always, unfortunately). Talk some more too, because Steph loved to talk.

"Mmmm," he hummed at one point as she went on and on about something or other going on at the company. He was trying to seem interested, but it was hard; her conversations were clearly wearing thin on the man. "That's so crazy, Steph."

"It's not crazy, Paul. It's funny. Are you even listening?"

Should he have been?

"Of course I am."

"If you wanna talk about something else-"

"I just wanna talk to you." He smiled across the table at her, catching the younger woman's eye. "And listen to you."

"You do not." But her tone wasn't pissy over it. She only made this face at him though she giggled a bit behind it. "I know I'm talking your head off."

"What? No. No way." He was grinning a bit though too, realizing it was safe to be sarcastic in that moment. Sometimes Steph realized how grating she could be; they could joke about it in those times. Others, however, when she was talking about something serious (or at least serious to her), jokes were not welcome. "Not you."

Rolling her eyes rather heavily, she stabbed at the chicken on her plate before saying, "It's not like your stories have been too entertaining these days."

"You mean you don't like hearing about me lifting weights and giving myself sponge baths?" He gave her a shake of his head. "I'm surprised, considering, you know, you're the one that keeps asking about them."

Because she was interested. Extremely. But if he wasn't going to fake being interested in her stories, then fine; she'd...lose out on hearing about his life.

Huh.

Didn't sound like a win.

Still, Stephanie only shrugged before saying, "Then what do you wanna talk about, babe?"

"Well, _babe_ ," he replied back, getting rewarded with a giggle. "As you may or may not have noticed, I ain't really had much else going on than what I've already told you."

"Then I guess we're at a standstill."

Lowering his head some, just to force her to keep that eye contact, he said, "There's other things we can listen to than one another."

Which was enough of a hint for Steph to get up and go turn on the stereo in the living room, loud enough that it could be heard in the kitchen.

"You're the best," he told her loudly, even shaking a fist at her as she passed. "Always know what I want."

It wasn't hard. On good days, such as they seemed to be having, the man honestly wanted very little.

The bad ones, however, where he wasn't in such a great mood about being sidelined from his torn quad and felt as if he was missing everything, they had trouble.

Dinner didn't last forever. And as Steph took care of the dishes, he went to go stretch out on the couch again, awaiting her to join him.

She laid with her head in his lap, neck resting on his good thigh, as they listened to the music. Paul was tapping his fingers against her forehead along to the beat as she randomly would bat at him, but mostly just enjoyed it. Enjoyed him. Not much was said and, eventually, the gentle rapping on her head stopped as Paul hung his head back, eyes shut, lost in his music and, apparently, just content with her being there.

Eventually, as a song came to an end, he lifted his head, staring down at the woman who, after closing her own eyes, felt his and opened her own once more, blinking up at him.

"You know," he said as he rested a hand on her belly, though it was quickly sliding further away, "it's kinda unfair."

"What is?" she breathed as his hand toyed with the little button on the front of her jeans.

"That you get to go out and do your shit and I get stuck here-"

"I know for a fact you have other friends and things to do outside of the company."

"Not that many."

"Mmmm."

"It's torture." He pouted, just a bit, as if to keep her eyes on his face and ignore the fact that he was working on the zipper to the jean shorts then. "Just so you know."

"I bet."

"You couldn't do it."

"Definitely not."

"I mean, you'd probably be out just on the pain alone-"

"And the fact that I'm a superior wrestler to you who would never get injured, so-"

"Jokes. She has jokes."

Only when he was feeling up for them.

That sort of rule applied both ways, it seemed.

"You don't think I'm a good wrestler?" She sat up a bit then, though she turned her body to face him, ruining the angle he had for slipping his hand between her shorts. "Paul?"

"I feel as if this is one of those times where I can't win no matter what I say." His other hand came up to pat her cheek. "So I'll stay silent."

"I could have been better, you know. This past year or so."

"Oh?"

Nodding, she said, "I had this really annoying baggage though that just kept weighing me down. Hunter something?"

"I'll have you know that I got it on good authority that Hunter is the only reason you ever held a title." He poked her nose that time, still staring into her icy blue eyes. "Or was your last name more the cause of that one, princess?"

That got her to grin and look off and him to smile, as if he had won. But of course, it only took her a moment to have a retort.

"Hunter," she said as she sat up even more, cautious then not to brush up against his healing quad in any way, "just wanted to be in the spotlight, anyway he could be."

"Au contraire mon frère," he said with a slight finger wag, getting a giggle. "Hunter- Now, hear me out, because this is just what I've heard."

"I'm listening."

"Hunter," Paul began again as one of her hands rested against the design on his t-shirt, "didn't want to be in the spotlight."

"Oh?"

Nodding, he said, "He wanted to be in you."

That got the hand against his chest to turn and slap at him softly though Steph was bowing her head as Paul held his higher.

"And what," she asked after she was able to look him in the eyes again, "do you want? Mr. Levesque?"

"Me?" He shrugged. "I want a lot of things. I'm not nearly as monotonous, you know, as Hunter."

"I'd hope not."

"I like more than fucking women and beating the asses off ripped guys."

"News to me, but go on."

"I have a broad spectrum of wants and desires. Needs that I hope to see fulfilled. Ones that have nothing to do with boning women or wrecking havoc at your pop's business."

"I'm still waiting for an elaboration."

"Mmmm… I also like cars. And want tons of cool cars. And a pool. Big house. Hot wife-"

"You said-"

"I don't have to fuck her. I just want her to be hot."

"You're so stupid."

"And I wanna...uh… I dunno. Being a CEO of a company sounds cool."

Cocking her head, Steph said, "Do you even know anything about business?"

"That's what you focus on?" was his reply. "I mean, really?"

"Well, the rest of that was all bullshit, so yes."

Paul felt himself smile as he said, "Well, I would like all of those things."

"And yet they sound eerily similar to Hunter. Which you claimed they wouldn't."

"Hunter, for your information, had a hot wife. And she burned him. He's done with that."

"He'd rather a husband then?"

Her nose got another poke. "I'm tired of talking about me."

"Hunter."

"Same thing."

"Not if we treat it like it's not."

"Tell me what you want." And he was resting his hand on her thigh then, rather then on the front of her jeans, which he stroked gently. "Steph."

"W-What?"

"What you want. Tell me." He sounded rather sincere then, for them to have just been discussing the nonexistent desires of a character he played on television. "Don't I have a right to know?"

For a moment, she was quite. Then, looking off, she said, "I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me anything."

"Nonsense?"

"Real things, Steph." His other hand rested against her cheek. "What do you want?" When she still didn't say, he added, "From me or the business or life or… Just what?"

"I dunno." And when he seemed to deflate, as if annoyed, she quickly said, "I'm serious, Paul. I don't know. I...I like right now. Being with you. And… I guess all that stuff you talked about before sounds good to me, but…"

"Everyone wants somethin', Steph."

Thinking then, rather hard, she took a few moments before lifting her head and staring him in the eyes as she said, "I love my brother."

"This took a turn."

His chest got another shove. "I mean… I know that the company's going to go to Shane and that's just the way that it's going to be and I would never want to, like, ruin that, it's definitely his, but… And I'd probably run it into the ground, you know? Because Shane is so… But I want it too. And I don't know if it's just because I'm being petulant or spoiled or… But what if I could be better at running it than him? And I just get overlooked because he's older or he's a man or…" She swallowed then, slightly shocked she still had the man's undivided attention. "I just love WWF. And I want what's best for it. Sometimes though, I think I might be it."

Paul took this all in stride before, slowly, nodding his head. "It's settled then. I'll run a multimillion dollar company as a CEO and you'll get WWF. Shouldn't be too hard to achieve."

His tone made her grin, that pit in her stomach from speaking this aloud to another person dissolving. "No. Not too hard at all."

"Although, on the off chance your brother isn't hit by a train and your father has no choice, but to choose you-"

"Paul-"

"-and I don't just happen to fall into some CEO position," he was quick to add, "I think I'd just settle for...COO?"

She didn't roll her eyes, but did lean closer to him then, all tension gone. "And I'd probably settle for, like, splitting the company with my brother."

"Right. Because that's how it works, you know. There's two of you so it gets split down the middle. Heard it was all the rage back in the Middle Ages. Especially when there was a male heir and a female one."

"Shut up." That time the eye roll couldn't be helped. "And just what COO position are you falling into?"

"The same one that'll land me my hot wife and cool house, hopefully."

"You could probably afford a pool now, you know."

"Oh, I definitely could. A big one. Hot tub too. But I couldn't afford a pool boy. And I ain't the type to be messing with chemicals."

Her forehead was resting against his then. "And your hot wife has to have someone to have an affair with. I hear pool boys are in high demand in that area."

"She better not." His lips brushed hers as he spoke. "Kick that woman straight out on her ass."

"She'll leave with half of everything you have."

"Jokes on you."

"Is it?"

Nodding a bit, he said, "I'm marrying up, babe."

"Sounds like a plan."

"The best of ones."

"Paul..."

"Hmmm?"

Steph just sat there, long enough for him to grow a bit anxious, awaiting her next words. But then she only shook her head slightly before pressing her lips against his.

Whatever she was going to finish that up with suddenly got a lot less important.

One thing that raised to importance, however, was the house phone that he had, resting on the table beside the couch. It started ringing just as he was getting her to wiggle out of those damn jeans and arg! It wouldn't stop.

"You need an answering mach-"

"Don't tell me what I need."

Paul only reached over to snatch the phone from its cradle beside them, neglecting to inform Steph that he _had_ one as little as a month ago, which she should have known, had her head not all been scrambled up from the greatness that he considered getting to make out with him. His answering machine had been in a terrible accident that involved Paul getting angry over his damn bum leg bothering him and then he tripped over something, in the living room, and fell on the ground and he just...broke the nearest thing to him. Which happened to be sitting above him on the end table.

Poor answering machine never stood a chance.

"Hello?" he grumbled into the phone, though just as quickly his tone evened out and Steph could hear one of his male friends on the other end, saying something or other.

Shifting away from him, she waited for a moment for him to finish, but when it was obvious that he couldn't, as the other man keep thwarting his efforts to, she only pressed a kiss to his cheek before whispering in the ear that wasn't hearing a full recap about a baseball game that he didn't give two shits about, "I'll be waiting."

It wasn't long. She wasn't expecting it to be. And, when he came hobbling into the bedroom, Steph only giggled at the sight of the intense expression on his face.

"Some important news, I hope?" she asked as he came to fall into bed. "Worthy of an interruption?"

"If I wanted a damn update to the Sox game, I'dda watched Sports Center." He pulled his shirt over his head, messing up his hair even further as Steph only giggled, watching the eagerness in his motions. Then, to her, he said, "I think we were starting somewhere on your unnamed desire?"

"Were we?"

"You know. The one where I get to fuck you."

"I definitely didn't say anything close to that."

He winked as she shifted closer regardless. "Believe me, Steph; you didn't have to."

It was a long while before they found themselves out in the living room again. And, then, they left all the lights and the stereo off as, once more, she rested with her head in his lap, listening as he idly flipped through channels with the remote with one hand and toyed with her hair with the other.

"Hey, Steph?" he whispered eventually as it was her turn to zone out.

"Hmmm?"

"You know that it's not stupid, right? To want something like that? Because...I dunno. I just don't think you should feel bad about wanting something. You're just as much a McMahon as Shane; anything can happen. I like your brother a lot too, but I think I'm a bit biased, if my vote gets cast."

"Mmmm." She lazily opened an eye. "And you're not dumb to want what you do, Paul. About any of it."

"I don't really want any of that. I's just talking. It'd be cool to have, all of it, I mean, come on, of course it would, but… I think I'm like you. I'm pretty damn happy right now."

"Really?" She lifted her head a bit at this, raising an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to remember that, hey, his quad was still injured and he was out of commission and there were days when he felt like his entire world was crumbling. "You are?"

He looked right down at her too, not at his quad or anywhere else, just right down into her cool eyes.

"Yeah, Steph. I am."


End file.
